To Make Him Come Home
by flame gazer
Summary: He hardly survived Sam's leaving the first time. But now, with Sam's thoughts a timebomb to his sanity, will Dean make it in time to stop Sam's turning into that he hunts. Can he save Sam, and himself?  rating may go up, graphic scences, slashincest


**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters with are in any way, shape or form dealing with the series.**

Chapter one

Alone

"Of all the days to get lost and run out of gas, you just _had_ to pick today, didn't you?" That tic on Dean's right temple was getting worse as the seconds crawled by.

"One more word and I swear to God Sammy-"

"What Dean? Swear to God what?" Sam knew that pushing Dean when his white-knuckled grip was most likely leaving grooves the size of his fingers on the steering wheel was not the best idea ever. But, at the moment, San didn't care. It wasn't his fault that Dean had been in a pissy mood for the last couple of weeks and was acting like a bitch even now. It wasn't his fault that Dean had refused to stop at a motel for the last week any longer that it takes to shower. It wasn't his fault that Dean had been acting like a complete ass since… since…

Dean let go of the wheel, his knuckles cracking after the stress that they had had to endure. He calmly opened the door, stepped out, and slammed the Impala's door hard enough that Sam was surprised that the frame didn't give, if even slightly.

Sam rolled down his window as Dean leaned against the front bumper, arms akimbo, breath coming out in foggy puffs before it dissipated into the cold night air.

Sam quietly stepped out of the Impala and gently closed the door behind him. As he approached the front of the car, he took his time to coolly asses his brother. He studied the tense set to his shoulders, and he caught the firm jaw. The hard line to his lips because he hadn't smiled in such a long time.

He leaned on the bumper, taking care to not touch Dean in anyway. He stayed quiet, knowing that he was typically the once to break the tense silences they shared, and yet refusing to do so this time.

They stayed that way for a while, the only sounds coming from the surrounding woods and from Sam as he shivered, running his hands up and down his bare arms in hope of creating just a little warmth.

Sam felt the warm heaviness flung onto his shoulders and he couldn't help but give Dean a small smile as he pulled Dean's jacket even closer to himself.

"Is there something you needed, Sam?"

Even thought he had always told Dean to call him Sam, he couldn't help but wince and miss the soft 'Sammy' that used to roll off of Dean's tongue.

"Why did you come and get me?"

He had to admit, it wasn't really unexpected when Dean had come to get him from Stanford. Instead it hurt, the fact that it had taken him so long. Why did it have to be then? Didn't Dean understand that this had been on his mind for all of the months that they have been on the road together? Didn't he understand that, yes, he wanted to be with him. But, at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder, did Dean still _want_ him there at his side? Did Dean want him there at _all_?

Because, deep down, he just couldn't see Dean needing him the way… the way…

"Does it really matter now?"

The way Sam needed Dean.

All Sam could think about was how much his being with Dean mattered, and how Dean's getting him all those months ago had meant that maybe Dean cared about him being there.

The way Sam cared about them being here, lost and out of fuel in the middle-of-nowhere backwoods Indiana, together.

But Dean hasn't been the same since that night.

Tears glistened and rolled silently down Sam's cheeks. The thought of Dean considering that night a mistake was almost unbearable.

But having Dean think that and be angry for the rest of their lives was better than Dean not wanting to have him there at all.

But couldn't he see just how much it mattered now?

Couldn't Dean just understand that he was the only reason Sam had to keep fighting the dark that keeps screaming in his head, which pulls at his blood?

Couldn't he just see how close Sam was to that edge?

"It matters more than you think."

Dean knew that Sam didn't want him to know he was crying, but Sam could never hide that slight tremble in his voice from him.

Now when they were younger, and he sure as hell couldn't hide it from him now.

"Damn it Sam, say it or get back in the fucking car."

Sam winced at the tone, the pure anger that Dean had thrown at him, and Dean couldn't stop the instant guilt and regret that consumed him, knowing that he had intentionally hurt Sam.

Sam stood, his back stiff with pride, but his head still hung with defeat.

He opened the car door and reached over his seat into the back of the impala to dig his bag out from underneath Deans' bags and fast food wrappers.

Dean, pissed at himself, rolled his eyes and let loose a curse before walking over and frowning at Sam through the open door.

"Come on Sammy, I didn't-"

"Goodbye Dean," Sam said, briskly cutting him off as he climbed out of the car, pulling his duffel behind him.

Dean's eyes widened, but he just let Sam walk in the direction they had come. This wasn't the first time that Sam had pulled this stunt. Three months ago, when Sam had done this, he came back in the cab of the tow truck he had gotten to haul Dean's car when the transmission had failed. Dean was positive that Sam was just trying to get a point across, because he had taken his duffle then too, but just to scare Dean.

When he saw the tow truck coming down the road about an hour later he was relieved to know that Sam had pulled threw, yet again, and they could just get back in the car, pretending that their stupid fight hadn't happened.

_Well_, Dean thought to himself with a slight chuckle, _I'll pretend that it never happened, he'll bug the shit out of me until we 'talk' about it. Bitch._

But when the truck stopped and the driver opened his door, the lights flooding the interior of the cab made Dean's heart jump in his throat.

Sam's gone.

It was like a record in his head had broken. The only thing that he could process was the fact that, this time, Sam hadn't come back.

Sam's gone.

Sam was supposed to be here.

Sam's gone.

Sam was supposed to be right here.

Sam's gone.

He didn't understand. Sam was supposed to come back and bitch about him being a jerk. Sam was supposed to fight with him about turning up .38 Special when he had something to say. Sam was supposed to be here, with him.

Sam's gone.

Sam was supposed to be right here, right at his side.

Sam's gone.

Sam was supposed to be right here, _right FUCKING here!_

Sam's gone.

The words came unbidden from the back of his mind and the tears started to roll down his cheeks.

"_Goodbye Dean."_


End file.
